Page 104 of Claimed By Her Forbidden Duke
Snarling, Edmund dragged Finley higher up the wall. “You deserve to rot, Langwaite.”
“No, I deserveher,” Finley sneered, but Penelope’s ears were ringing. “And you will join me for dishonoring her.”
“I love her. What we did was not dishonorable. Secretive, perhaps, but two people consenting to be with one another. Which is far more than what you—than whatIwalked in on.”
I love her.
I love her.
I love her.
The room was very, very silent, and Penelope could only stare at the Duke, at the way he froze, not looking at her. She wanted him to. Her stomach clenched, and her heart raced, but he did not look at her.
In the pause, Finley struggled free and snatched the letter opener Penelope had kept on her bedside table for when Edmund’s letters arrived, eager to slice them open and greedily read each word. But now…
I love her.
I love her.
I love her.
“Edmund!” she screamed.
The letter opener flashed as Finley swung it, aiming it at an angle that would slide right into Edmund’s neck.
Edmund ducked and pinned Finley’s arm to the wall, twisting his wrist so he dropped the opener immediately. Finley cried out, struggling to wrench his hand free, but Edmund pinned him in place.
“You will never, ever touch her,” Edmund snarled. “You will never lay eyes on her, nor speak her name, and I will make sure that any right you have to her guardianship will be immediately revoked.”
Suddenly, there were shouts and pounding footsteps, and then constables poured into Penelope’s room. She huddled against the wall as three men thundered past to grab her brother.
She gasped as her brother was hauled away, spitting obscenities, his eyes glaring into her. He struggled, trying to kick free, yelling for her to save him. But she didn’t. She only watched him be led away, fearful and scared, and strangely upset.
As soon as the room fell quiet, she couldn’t bear it.
She scrambled to her feet and bolted for the parlor downstairs, away from Edmund, away from the reminder of what had almost happened in her chamber.
“Penelope!” Edmund shouted, hurrying after her.
She flew into the parlor, closing the door, but he was there moments after, stumbling into her. She drew back, putting distance between them.
“You… you should leave,” she whispered, hating that she looked at him, hating that she couldn’t look away. “You should before you say anything else you do not mean.”
“I have spoken only truths today, Penelope,” he told her, his eyebrows knitting together in anguish.
He didn’t move towards her, but he held out a hand to her, letting her choose.
“But I did not the last time you confronted me, when I should have. I am terrified, Penelope. You know a mere fragment of what I did all those years ago. To think of you balking at the full scale of every dark, terrible thing I have done? I cannot bear it.”
“And who says I would? I did not flinch in the face of your nightmare, or what you told me afterward.”
“You did not,” he whispered.
“You left me.” Her voice wobbled. “You left me without an answer, Edmund. After everything we had done together, what we had shared… you let me walk away.”
His voice was faint when he said, “I never should have. Ever since the moment you walked out of that house, I have hated myself for letting you do it. I should have chased you the second you turned your back on me. No—no. I should have never pushed you to even think of leaving.”
Taking a step closer to him, Penelope watched him carefully.
